Aberration
by Ryuichiro Sakuraba
Summary: Prior to being exposed to the Mayonaka TV fog, everyone's sight was cloudy to begin with. With impaired vision, they were fighting their Shadows long before they knew they exist. Prequel to 'Would You Love Me', showing the Investigation Team's inner musings before the infamous Inaba Murder Cases. Slight shipping from P3, minor YoYu. Rated T for vices, language and mild violence.


Aberration

Hi! It's been _quite_ a while, isn't it? I won't explain my absence anymore since it won't matter anyway. Just a quick "I've got a busy life" for a long time would suffice, methinks.

Here comes yours truly, capturing his muse to write once again.

This is a companion piece of Would You Love Me, and this baby happens before the events of P4.

A one-shot to contribute to the completion of the story, it encompasses the life of the whole Investigation Team prior to the murder cases. I hope you like it.

Unbeta'ed, by the way. If any hint of shounen-ai or BL squicks you, feel free to press the Back button.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own the Persona series and all its spinoffs, and anything that is related to any existing game, program, product, merchandise or service used in this fanfic. I only own the OCs for the Channel 13 broadcast.

Cross-posted at AO3 under RyuichiroSakuraba.

* * *

_**Abberation**_

Aberrations often happen when someone uses poorly-made lenses; it enables people to see things a tad differently, from grotesque figures to simply a color tinge at the edges of their perfectly clear vision.

The truth always exists, no matter how hard it is to reach, no matter how well it is hidden, no matter how much time it takes to realize it.

* * *

_**Do I Fit? (Channel 1)**_

"Ah, thanks for the good work today."

The last guy, Kunoki-san I think, bowed and stepped out, closing the door as he went to Kami-sama knows where.

The unforgiving shift finally ended. It breaks monotony here in the sticks despite the total exhaustion it provides… Moving from the city to such a rustic (Amagi explained the difference of _rustic_ and _rural _as Satonaka kicked me in rapid succession when I used the latter; and to be honest, my vocabulary says they're the same thing, only different spellings) town where everything is either slow-moving or downright boring.

Pulling my work apron and stripping my damp shirt off, I sighed as I chucked them to the communal laundry basket in the changing room. Having the 'Prince of Junes' title didn't offer bejewelled crowns and loyal servants – it was more like you're the welcome carpet of a house that everybody steps on. It hurts my pride, but then again, I earn a lot and it makes up for providing little flair to my already boring life.

Did I use boring for how many times already?

Here I am, alone, checking my phone for spam as usual while I ruffle through my things in my locker single-handedly. Tch. I badly need a shower. Your sweat evaporating could cause uncontrollable shivering, especially in this kind of establishment where centralized air conditioning is a must-have. I wish I could visit Amagi Inn for a nice soak, but meh, that's just too fancy for me. If you think that all rustic locations have at least a simple bath house, better think again. The one here is too luxurious even for a Prince like me.

Oh.

Konishi-senpai's photo says hello to me from the cold metal door of this locker. Crap! I even forgot to talk to her _the whole shift_! And she's just a gondola away from me earlier… Man, this lifestyle irritates me a lot. There goes my chance to get closer to her today, gone and slipping from my fingers like groceries being punched at the counter and bagged to be taken away by a random shopper.

I'll definitely have the chance to go out with her – you just wait!

…who am I fooling, anyway?

Without further ado, I got my toiletries and headed to hit the showers. At least, Junes never runs out of hot water, be it for cup ramen or having a quick, hygienic wash after a tiring day.

As I scrubbed myself raw under the warm stream of water, I wondered if things could be any different from the status quo. Nothing exciting ever happens here, or maybe I'm just unlucky. It was certainly a blast when I first arrived here, but that got old sooner for my taste. I ended up as another ordinary face in this ordinary town, complete with ordinary events which contribute to the bleakness of this ordinary life.

I'm missing the thrum of the city; the never-ending chattering, the night lights, the street noises, heck, even the air pollution that tells you 'Hey, this is urban lifestyle at its finest' along with a honk of a motorcycle horn and the scent of burning gasoline and the stench of slick tires skidding on the sun-baked, concrete pavement.

No use thinking about shoulda-woulda-couldas, na? I'm stuck here, and that's final.

Sighing for the nth time today, I ran my fingers through my slick hair and rested my head at the cool tiles of the shower stall.

"How…lonely."

* * *

_**Cooking With Dog (Channel 2)**_

"Please enjoy your stay."

I'm tired, but it's okay. I need to slide the door gently and… Whew. One down. Two more to go.

The inn has been really busy these days. I must not give up; I'm having double tasks tonight to be worthy enough to ask for a day off. It would be bad if I ditched Chie again. I blew off her invitation to hang out just because of our lack of manpower. I feel bad every time I say no to Chie's plans on hanging out or pigging out on steak skewers at Souzai Daigaku. I mean, it's bad for my figure, but since we seldom have time after school recently, indulging her might be the best way to go.

Come to think of it, why am I so adamant on doing such menial tasks? It's not like I'm the only one capable of running the inn in the future, ne? However, since I'm stuck with Amagi as my family name, it brands me with an inescapable truth that I'm not going anywhere but here.

Oops. I shouldn't be thinking of such things.

BAD THOUGHTS, BEGOOOOOONE!

Snrk. I'm kind of starting to lose my composure, however, I'm still on the clock. It will be a disaster if I suddenly wreak havoc by dropping these tray of dirty eating implements and laughing my guts out. I need to hold it in.

Deep breaths, Yukiko. Deep breaths.

…that wasn't so hard.

I managed to reach the next guest room and did the same thing to the other one beside it. Job well done, Yukiko!

However, balancing stacked trays can be quite a feat. I'm still an inn maiden in training. As ironic as it may sound, I can't believe that I'm doing this despite my body screaming out that it didn't want to be here.

It would be nice to be anywhere but here.

No. I should strive. Negativity won't let me move forward. But…

…who am I fooling for so long?

Reaching the back of our kitchen, I placed the tower of trays near the sink for our helper to wash those used bowls and such. I almost did it as an inn maiden should; unfortunately, the last tier of the tower fell.

Paling at the mess that I made, I winced and prepared for a scolding but that good guy just laughed and shooed me away, telling me that I didn't even chip a bowl and I should take a rest since I'm working overtime already.

Oh, I think it's about time I clocked out and prepare for studying. I still have a ton of homework to finish too.

To stop embarrassing myself further, I bowed at our helper and stepped out of the kitchen. I'm no good in the kitchen anyways so it's better for me to just scram and do things I'm more attuned at.

Wearing a kimono makes a woman pretty, or so I've heard from countless girls at Yasogami when they talk about summer festivals. Of course it does, seeing my mother and other people don one, I can't help but be a little envious.

What saddens me is…no matter what happens outside the inn, I can only glance and take a peek. Festivities are not meant for me to enjoy; people flock the inn during those days, leaving me only a few minutes to even step out of the entrance. That means I would miss an event without fail.

'Amagi-san is such a blessed girl with an inn to boot,' most of my schoolmates would blurt out. If they only knew…

Is having a 'blessed' life they dream about involve a cage to stop you from experiencing a lot of things outside its boundaries?

Snrk. That tickles! Oh, wait, my phone is vibrating.

It's Chie.

She yaps about her day and how excited she is when she mentioned our 'steak'-out tomorrow. I replied a positive response and told her that we'll go ahead with the 'operation' as soon as the afterschool bell chimes.

Reaching my room, I gazed at the now-empty birdcage that I kept in memory of a friend that broke out and found his way into the harsh yet exciting world.

It hurts.

"I want…to be free."

* * *

_**Notice Me Senpai~ (Channel 4)**_

"Okay, okay! I get it! I'll get down for dinner in a bit!"

A few finishing stitches and…it's done! Hah! Beat that! I managed to finish Alligator-kun in thirty minutes! I'm da maaaan!

…if you consider sewing as manly. Fuck people who blabbers about people should do this and that. It's annoying as hell. Catch my drift? I mean, who gave them Kami-sama's permission to mock other people? From what I heard (I hate gossips, they're bullshit), men should act manly and women should be all girly and crap. Society is made that way. We are bound by roles and all that jazz. Tch.

Setting the newly-made Alligator-kun beside Inu-kun and Neko-kun, I cracked my knuckles to relieve the tension that's been building up there since I started on creating the pink fellow. Then, here goes those noisy motorcycles once more. Fuck those bike gangs to hell. Won't they give my old lady a tiny bit of peace and quiet?

Hm. Someone's going down soon. I feel it.

I let out a huff as I slumped on the floor, my hands finding their way under my head. Damn, that reminds me, I need to touch-up the roots of my hair. Maybe I should ask my old woman for a few yen to get cheap hair bleach from the 24/7 convenience store five blocks away. Oh well, that would be settled after dinner.

This is not good. Me relaxing would mean thinking time – and I'm not too good at mindfuck, thank you very much. Unfortunately, my brain's wheels started to turn. Who can't control their own mind, anyway?

Years back, Amagi Inn had given us a huge break and started ordering cloth and other crap from our small shop. Hah. My old lady knows her wares pretty well. It was soon established that once you hear Tatsumi, it would mean the only textile shop capable of supplying the majestic Amagi Inn with their beautiful kimonos and comfortable sheets. I must admit that yes, our cloth is topnotch compared to those cheap things you see at Junes. They have good taste.

Also, that Amagi girl was beautiful too, now that I remembered. She frequented our shop once or twice a month. Always the regal one, I might add. Hm. That's what you get for not following proper care in washing articles. I think I must lecture her on that next time.

…oops. I think she's older than me. What a downer.

That aside, of course, I am self-training myself to do those beautiful stuff too. The orders that went in last time were all sewn by…guess who? Nah, my old woman can't see well for shit and there's no one else to take over when the workers are off the clock. That would be none other than me.

It was quite fine, really. They even favored requesting reorders and soon enough, those inn guests who praised the quality of Tatsumi articles during their stay went personally to the shop downstairs and requested custom items: scarves, kimonos, heck, even a tiny amulet pouch for a hefty price tag. Not that I am complaining since they feed us, plus it gives me a rather easy life and an interesting hobby to clear my mind.

Everything's A-OK.

…who the fuck am I fooling?

I hit a bike gang recently due to their obnoxious zooming along the streets. Who could sleep at night with those bastards interrupting your slumber? I could handle it well, but my old lady seemed to get weird raccoon eyes after just a few nights. Not pretty.

I ended up thrashing them without difficulty. Hah. Weaklings should just scram and dig a hole to die in.

That should be the last of my worries. However, in a small town like Inaba, rumors kept flying in all fucking directions. Housewives down the street talk about my sewing and how it was not 'fit' for a guy. What's wrong with sewing and having a bat with two balls hanging below it? I cannot understand them. What defines a guy anyway?

Tch. That's why I dislike girls in general – except my old woman. They're too nosy for their own good, smells of cheap cologne and sickeningly-sweet florals, and they worry about the simplest of things. Nada. No. They're officially on my people-I-hate list.

Perhaps that's another reason why I dig guys more. Not in a romantic way, I…think? Well, guys are easier to deal with. They can handle blunt words and just scoff it off. Pretty straightforward too.

Does that mean…wait. Do I even like guys _that way_ then?

Crap. This is what the 'normal' society tells you. I'm starting to think that I'm abnormal. People find me weird if they get a wind of that fucking rumor. I shouldn't care about it, but hell, I somehow do.

What's wrong with liking pink and doing things that a 'normal' person wouldn't even think about?

Kami-sama help me. My old lady's furious now. I should've gone down the moment I finished Alligator-kun. Tch. Getting a bleeding bump on the head from the old lady will spell no hair bleaching, or so the instructions say.

I rose and scampered through the door. It's a little late, so perhaps I might swing my fists again after my purchase? She needs to get those nasty dark circles from her eyes quickly. She won't look pretty as long as she had those.

Ah, damn it all. I might not be a blind item in the local news anymore. Rumors will fly once again. That scary policeman is on my tracks too. Then it's all back to square one again – people calling me weird.

It's a tiring cycle that I cannot get out of.

Fuck society.

"…will somebody fucking accept me for who I am?"

* * *

_**Jekyll and Hyde: The Animation (Channel 6)**_

"Thank you for the fifteen-minute break! I'll just be getting a drink!"

As soon as I said the magic words, three male members from some random staff quickly rushed in front of me and provided me options; Cielo Mist Light, Mad Bull Zero, SoBay Lo-cal and a Quelorie Magic.

Mou…It's so hard to choose! They even knew that I would certainly pick a low carb or a zero calorie one – but honestly, I was actually thinking of getting out of the set to get myself the largest size of thick chocolate ice cream shake at the nearby Wild Duck Burger. Of course, that would spell a disaster but please, I'm getting sick of not getting what I want… It's my time of the month too…

Not really thinking, I just accepted all of them, giving them a megawatt smile in return. Goodness gracious, at least the lighting staff guy named Haru-san shooed them away by telling them the other teams needed them. So much for the commotion, I sat and sighed tiredly, mentioning how it gets into my nerves. I am quite comfortable with Haru-san; he doesn't get star-stricken in my presence. He usually talks about how thinking rots someone's brain, and from there perhaps that's where the ball started rolling.

I grimaced at the cold feeling seeping in my hands just by holding those items. It's rather amusing to wonder how they kept these things ice-cold since I don't see the staff drink cooler anywhere nearby. Haru-san soon noticed by trouble and soon got all those with two hands, taking a puff of cigarette hanging between his lips. How he does that, I am not sure. I don't smoke; it's bad for the skin. I was amazed to know that he's just a junior at a high school in this city. Why he inhales that cancer stick, it's about that silver-haired person or something. He's good-looking too, so why did that end up tragically? Oops. That person didn't die, I've heard, but went somewhere far, far away. Sounds like a chick-flick scenario to me – and I'm so not telling him that. He's too good to burst that bubble of his.

Haru-san asked what was troubling me and since I'm okay with him, I told him everything. In five minutes, he was back with that humongous paper cup with honest-to-goodness chocolate shake that I've been craving for. Yay!

While he walks away to smoke somewhere really far from me, grimacing and sputtering about lo-cal version of drinks taste like horse piss (but he carried those drinks with him anyway), it left me pondering what made that guy approach me like I'm not a celebrity in the first place.

Sure, my reputation precedes me. I'm much like Kanami; we're both in the same agency. We stay professional in all the ways possible.

…who am I fooling all these time?

It always felt like acting even off-cam.

Do other people even realize we're human girls too? I really wanted to pig on yakitori or some Souzai Daigaku skewers back home but that would cause a negative impact on Risette's impression of eating 'healthy'. I always need to act cute and energetic since it's the Risette that they all know. I feel like cursing, saying 'damn' and 'shit' sometimes because that's the only word fitting for a really annoying situation, but no, I can't. It's a part of my contract to stay _likeable_ by the crowd.

Bitching won't help me, no matter how I try to rant even just in my brain. It's tiring; even after work, I'm still _acting_. The only thing people liked about me is being the cute Risette, the naughty Risette, the stern Risette, the innocent Risette, and all the other Risettes after that… Damn. What if they see the other Risettes too? They probably won't like me anymore. There are Risettes who get angry in a violent way, curse endlessly, complain a lot, rant a lot more, and eat tons of food even a regular high school girl cannot dream of consuming.

…And why can't I find Kujikawa Rise anywhere in the personality pool?

Break's almost up. Here's enthusiastic Risette, reporting for duty – despite how exhausted she is. I wish I could file that resignation real soon. I hate being liked by what they see on TV or the streets when we're not shooting anything.

Smiling wryly at my train of thought, the biggest question is even if I quit, without Risette, who is there to like?

"Where is… the real me?"

* * *

_**Jealousy Is The Best Policy (Channel 7)**_

"I'll be back before dinner!"

Returning overdue DVDs can kill someone's wallet, not to mention the penalty increases every day you miss. It's obvious that I need to run before the rental closes or I'll be dead meat. Perhaps I should just save my money to buy them instead?

Oh great. That stupid Prince of Junes is rubbing his germs on me. I think he's a good person, but to be honest, I don't want that pervert getting any closer to Yukiko. She might get dumb too. I was having my happy hour when my closest friend dumped him and never remembered anything about it the next day. I can't help but laugh at the scene! No offense meant to Bakamura, but that was totally hilarious. Of course, I fled the place before laughing my ass off – I still pity Bakamura, but just a little bit. Rejection is a big deal after all, and for the pervert that he is, I guess I'll extend my mercy by an inch.

So far, so good! Afternoon runs are the best! My legs will be in tip-top shape, the wind feels nice, and…

I smell something delicious emanating from the now-looming Souzai Daigaku. Steak skewers make good running-to-the-DVD-rental-shop rations. After buying a few sticks and slapping the yen on the counter, I sent a salute at the ever-smiling owner and carried on my quest to transport the goods to the required destination.

Samegawa looked better at sunset; all those reds and oranges are quite beautiful to watch. If it wasn't for these DVDs, I would stop by here and enjoy devouring these steak skewers and perhaps order some more beef bowls from Aiya and hang out at the gazebo with Yukiko.

Oh.

She is busy handling the tasks at their inn as I am slowing down to a brisk walk while chewing on the sinewy part of a steak piece.

Hm. She must look really beautiful in that kimono of hers; I've seen it quite a number of times and it never gets old. Every female student admires her brains and beauty, while all males regard her as a great girlfriend material. How great.

Inhaling chunks of nicely-done meat and watching kung-fu movies can still be considered girly, right?

…who am I fooling, ne?

She's way ahead of me. Yukiko's really intelligent, and I always rely on her notes. She has nice, long hair, plus her way of carrying herself makes her appear like a queen – and I'm the royal watchdog. She also has all those measly peasants called suitors flocking her feet too, and I end up as the general of the royal barricade of knights. I don't really mind, but I do admit that, crap…

I really am jealous of her, am I right?

If Yukiko got a wind of this, I'm doomed. Girl catfights are really not my forte, especially if the opponent is Yukiko. That thing is what I can't imagine. We've been friends for, like, since we found that now gruff, lovable yet smelly dog (it was once a puppy, of course) on a rainy day at the same floodplain I'm traversing on.

Brings back good memories, huh? How we first met was a mere coincidence which turned out to be this.

It's sick, thinking ill of your best friend just because of her looks, intelligence, mass appeal, everything. A friend shouldn't even begin that line of thought.

Hell, I'll just continue the way I am now. Nothing's wrong about eating meat every day, practicing martial arts, not being girly (well, it's hard to even choose clothes and skincare what-not) and all the works. As long as Yukiko depends on me, it's fine. I can still remember kicking off those bastards' asses because they we're badmouthing Yukiko. They got dumped and experienced her Blank Gaze of Amnesia. Serves them right.

I almost choked at the last piece of steak when I summed up what I thought I thought earlier. It hurts but I somehow need to get this out.

"Yukiko and I on equal footing…is that even possible?"

* * *

_**Bishounen Senshi Gakuran Star (Channel 10)**_

"I see. I will be sending them over in a few minutes."

Click. Even over the phone, they demand a lot.

Why couldn't they be a little more passionate about the investigation? All I observed in that crowded department earlier were a mumbo-jumbo of files, incessant chattering, and the whole place reeks of cheap, vending machine coffee, stale cigarettes and sweaty men coming to and from the swinging door. Not that I was the one to be picky when it came to case analysis requests. Process flow? Request comes in, get the job done, file a report. Wash, rinse, repeat.

If only it were that easy. Bearing the Shirogane name has its pros and cons. Favored in investigations, yet pummelled by the mundane stuff. As a detective, picking up the bits and pieces and sniffing around the most mundane of things highlighted the description of being one. This sounds like me complaining – and I think I actually am.

Most seniors couldn't accept the fact that the one feeding vital information to them was me. There is only so much convincing power a fifteen-year old could hold over a plethora of testosterone-loaded men. The male psychological make-up boasted authority and bluntness. They seemed to be cut off the corners in an easily identifiable pattern, their responses highly predictable that it was not even funny. It's inevitable; blame natural selection, million years of evolutionary transformation, and their established hegemony after stabbing the earth and marking their territory.

Damn it. I should not be slacking off. This file is sitting around on my monitor and the police department needed – ah the urgency, this thing in less than ten minutes. The now cold, half-finished cup ramen sat sadly beside the keyboard, its seafood scent slightly hitting my olfactory center; I can't cook since handling the stove can be a hazard.

…I better finish the file now, but I can't help skipping over certain things in my mind.

I will certainly be a person worthy of bearing the Shirogane legacy. The police department never hires kids, so I firmly believe I'm out of the equation. In times of crisis, a hero suddenly appears to save the day.

…who am I fooling now?

No matter how they see it, Shirogane Naoto is a fifteen-year old kid. Ah, how I dislike the term. If that was the case, then the whole police department would be my sandbox. Unappealing. Though it's really fun poking around stuff and chasing information from Kami-sama knows where, I should definitely hide my giddiness whenever I found something new; a major lead, a new possibility, or even just a hint on what to check out next. Who doesn't love games? Oh, the game theory is also a crucial part in the evolutionary aspect of society, as one of ojii-san's books told me.

It's difficult, like trying to pole jump without a freaking pole. I usually get lost in thought and my nerves were in a fray often, but I will certainly lose credibility if they saw that. I perfected the professional mask years ago. Having it crumbled in front of my colleagues won't be a pretty sight. That would end up smashing the Shirogane lineage in a few seconds too. Horrific, akin to ghost sto–

Ghosts?

Wait.

I'm alone, and those victims that I saw in the crime scene earlier shouldn't be able to follow be here, right? But they _pass through_ walls, feel cold if you _pass through_ them and their wails can _pass through_ every fiber of your being…

I shouldn't have read that book ojii-san sent me. Having ghosts swarming behind a person is stressful. I could die instantly just _knowing_ that a vengeful spirit might be lurking anywhere within a five-meter radius. Damn, I will sleep at a room near ojii-san's later. It is his loss for giving me a horrendous pile of absurd text.

A-a-anyway, a detective should not yield to such tribulation. He must stand firm to his calling. Failure is not an option. Yes, I'm fifteen years old, but I will show them that I'm a genuine, all-Shirogane material, batteries included.

"I wonder when…will I be a full-fledged detective?"

* * *

_**I've Been Waiting For This! – The Animation (Channel 13)**_

"Time out, Sanada-sensei."

He beat the crap out of me. For a slim-built part-time PE teacher, he packed a punch. Damn. Perhaps a cold pack on the now-forming bruise on my left arm sounds heavenly this time. And I'm itching for a smoke too.

We went out of sensei's gym, walking towards the Aztrbucks just across the street, in full boxer's glory complete with a slightly soaking shirt and a sweaty towel. Not that I minded how we look, really.

I dunno how he got his nice training place on his own (and he lives on the second floor of the small gym), but he seemed to have a _lot_ of connections, and I've heard _Kirijo_ in one of his phone calls during our weekend sparring sessions – not that I'm eavesdropping on him or something, but he has this air like very much like…

Then he raised an eyebrow, smoothly pointing out that I was spacing out. By the time I noticed his hand waving I front of me, we were standing in front of the counter with a cheery girl waiting for our orders. Sensei ordered the 'usual' – a tall decaffeinated mocha frappe blended in extra smooth, 12% soy solids soymilk. So much for protein loading, and he adds more powder once he finishes one-third of it. Unimaginable. I can assume that we will visit the Hagakure two blocks away after cooling down. Double unimaginable.

Sensei still has a swimmer's physique after all that protein dumping.

Astonishing.

He got me a short Earl Grey with loads of honey, chuckling a little how he knew someone named like Shin or whatever, who preferred extremely sweet tea and smoked while sipping the said concoction.

He never ceases to amaze me. He's shining; a silver thread shooting across the darkness, providing a sharp yet calm light to anyone astray from their chosen paths. He's like a shepherd and I'm one of those lost sheep.

Baa. Baa. I'm a black sheep. I can give you wool. Three bags full to be exact.

Tch. Wrong line of thinking.

In a few moments our orders were called, and I realized that sensei paid them. Darn it; I forgot my wallet in the gym.

Scowling, I tried to save myself from embarrassment but Sanada-sensei sported that small smile, explaining that young ones should not patronize their elders, as we exited the small coffee joint.

All was going well; however, my stomach did not seem to agree with me. Not that butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of thing.

He laughed again, its sound ringing sonorously in my ears. Of course I found out that I haven't eaten a snack and it's close to dinnertime too, and freaking Sanada-sensei is having a field day out of it.

Someone tell me how to not embarrass myself any further.

He immediately stepped inside the gym while I leaned at its huge glass window close to the door.

I badly need a smoke. My nerves are grating me in fine shreds.

Helping myself with a semi-crushed stick due to earlier training, I lit it and took a sip of my steaming hot drink. My thoughts flew once more.

Sanada-sensei brought a new light to me.

Ever since that person went away, I didn't know what to do. Like I said earlier, I'm a lost lamb. And I picked up this bad habit too.

Now, I'm spending time working as a lighting temp-staff to some celebrity agency and sparring with sensei during my free time. Yay.

To cut things short, I somehow admit that I'm attracted to sensei.

He never judged people prematurely; he took my immediate 360 from a health nut to a chain smoker in a stride (he sometimes scolds me, but it was never venomous – quite weird for a teacher if you ask me). The other students literally stalked him while a few people, boys and girls alike, were brave enough to confess to him, but he never lead anyone on and turned down each of them with care. I didn't know until recently that he was really good in Japanese literature too, no matter how it doesn't fit his image. I teased him about it and I earned a feral growl – yet he still looked stunning. He was always shining in my eyes, whether it was at school or during our therapeutic sessions with a pair of Jack Brothers punching gloves.

Sanada-sensei.

The doors squeaked, letting him put with a protein-reloaded frappe and his phone over his ear, blurting about beef bowls and stuff. Crap, he even ordered for a delivery.

May the earth swallow me.

I was about to retort when his phone rang and he sheepishly excused himself. No matter what he does, it was graceful.

All I heard were muffled gibberish and _Okay_, _Sure_, _Mitsuru_, _Akihiko_, and interestingly…

_I'll execute you._

I felt the chills which made me flinch despite me not being the target of the statement. Sanada-sensei hung up and sighed, sounding defeated. His phone made its way to his sweatpants' pocket and he resumed drinking his frappe.

…then he asked me if he had something on his face.

Craptastic. I was found out.

He averted his gaze and looked at the street, twirling the wires of a pair of slightly battered, old-model silver-blue earphones connected to a music player. Ah, he always wore those except when we have sparring sessions where he just wore the blue lanyard by itself.

Oh, I got no need to be shy now, I guess. For the first time in history, I confessed to someone without looking at them in the eye, in the middle of a sparring break, and to a guy at that.

He could have turned me down but when he smiled gently, closed his eyes and set them on me without moving while blurting a small thank-you, I was shocked. However, what's more shocking was his reply; asking me if there was someone else who needed to hear my confession instead of him. And he said it like a statement of fact.

I was so sure that this confession is for Sanada-sensei's ears.

…heh, who am I fooling?

They have similar hair color, and almost have the same quirks. They could even pass as siblings. Hell, what was I thinking?

That person moved away, a place I don't have any inkling where. Why? Was it partly because I shunned that person away? Was it because their family needed to move? Was it because…

Funny, but it didn't feel like I was dumped. Sensei chuckled and had this 'See, I'm right, am I?' look in his face when he squatted beside me, looking like some high school kid nursing a milkshake.

He soon warned me good-naturedly that I should not start calling him Aki-senpai outside the school gates (He prefers to be casual when school is done, and we're in the same gym anyway, but when did he observe that I'm eavesdropping earlier?) or he would have trouble with the fan clubs; and with a fleeting, longing gaze at the sky, he simply said it was reserved for their leader. What sensei meant by that, I had no idea.

The short-lived somber moment was broken by a motorcycle bringing our food. Hagakure beef bowl special.

I'm warning you, stomach. Don't rain on my parade.

Quickly rising up, Sanada-sensei deftly got his wallet and paid the delivery guy and canted his head sideways, urging me to come inside and have the steaming grub.

Stubbing my spent cigarette at the ashtray-trashcan combo near the door, I came to notice that I somehow liked that person. But, I shouldn't be having this kind of feelings. It's…uncomfortable in all standards.

Maybe I should accept the invitation of Sanae-san to live in Inaba instead? If things go on like this, I might go crazy. Sensei said that there was a thin line between running away and moving on. Which is which anyway?

Now that I came up with a revelation to myself, I'm scared.

"...what a drag."

* * *

_**How They're Made: Mayonaka TV Glasses (Channel 17)**_

"The light, I can see it!"

…or maybe not.

This world is gloomy… And it felt like I have been here for quite some time now. Not a single living thing on sight. And what's with all the huge stuff looming above? It shouldn't even be this yellow on this side anyway.

Since when did I know that information?

…I-I-I can't remember. Why am I here? What am I doing here? How long am I staying here?

Voices. Different voices. Some are happy, some are not. Some are angry, some are pitiful that I want to comfort them.

I walked in the seemingly endless, foggy-smelling void when I tripped on…nothing in particular? How could that be?! How em-bear-rassing! I hope someone didn't see my boo-boo.

Not that there is anyone here in the first place…huh? Where did that come from?

And there's this slimy goo that has a mask and…waaah! It smells bad, really bad! And it's wrapping itself around by beautiful fur! Ack! What do I do, what do I do?!

Run. Yup. Here goes.

I ran as far as my cute feet can take me.

A place where there are a lot of boxes with weird, shiny surfaces was there for me to behold when I stopped to catch my breath. Something tells me that they are called a TV. Oh, that's where those voices are coming from. I can see another being looking at me too… How scary!

Oh, wait. I moved my hand, and it moved too! I moved away, and it did the same thing as well! Hm. What a weird fellow.

After staying here for what I could say a long time, I figured that the being I see on the TV was me too. I'm a bear! I don't know how I knew that, but at least I'm a cute bear to boot, so I should name myself Kuma! Yay!

…who is this bear fooling?

Deep inside, I felt that there is something wrong in me. I can't put in into words; I'm a dumb bear after all. I only rely on my nose, my ears, my eyes, my hands, and my feet. Based from what I've been hearing from the other side of those TVs, the smelly goo-beings are Shadows. This place is like a trash heap of things other living beings on the other side tend to reject. One of the things I learned too was the more a being rejects itself, the more the goo-being related to that one becomes scarier than usual. I'm lucky that I can smell them off from a distance and I managed to steer clear from them for I don't know how long.

I realized that this place is quite small too. It's like this place is just a big ball; after walking for a while on a straight line, I'll come back to the same place – the same location with a lot of what the other-siders call metal struts and TVs. I can live with that.

The only thing that I cannot bear to bear as a bear is…why am I the only one here? The other side of the TV seems to have other beings talking to another being. Why can't I have something like that too?

The same questions when I woke up resurfaced. It's really a bear-y scary idea.

I realized that I am alone. From what I've heard, it's sad to be alone. Maybe that is what I am feeling now. I'm sad because I'm alone.

Other-siders make weird noises that I learned to be laughing, crying, sighing, and sorts, and I learned them all by myself too! …oh, that thought makes me even sadder.

All by myself.

I tried touching the box, and my hand went through it! Scary! The box will swallow me whole, fur and all! I resigned myself to be content on just gazing at the bear in front of me and listening to whatever that box is saying.

Sure, I'm fine like this, but when I've noticed something appearing beyond that box, I felt something hurt me inside me. It looked familiar yet foreign at the same time.

So, these were the other-siders that I've been hearing all the while. It's nice to see them for the first time, but… when I gaze at another TV without showing anything but another bear, I wondered: why don't I look like the other-siders? They seemed to be having a lot of fun too! I want to join in!

But I don't look like them. Why do I look different? Why do I feel that if I happen to be there, the results won't be good? Why is it that even if I look like a cute bear, something is missing?

…right. I cannot remember anything, even my own memories. I feel hollow and it makes me want to cry like those other-siders. I'm scared, not because of the dangers in this place. What I fear the most…is having no idea where I came from.

"Who…am I?"

* * *

_**Fooling The Fool (Channel 0)**_

"I'll call Dojima-san as soon as I board the last train. Do take care."

This will be a long, two-transfer train ride, even if it's for an hour and a half.

What a pain in the ass. If there was a one-ride way to do this, I would've snagged it. Alas, tough luck for me. Fortunately, Okaa-san was generous enough to provide me with a small fortune to travel there and have a little more to spend for a few weeks once I get to Inaba. There _must _be a good way to take my mind off the pits, and I'm certainly finding it.

Leaving the city to reside in a rural area doesn't seem so bad. I've been fine with continuous, almost yearly transfers, hopping from one location to another. Okaa-san and otou-san were never home most of the time, if you consider our house in the city that I left for this school year. It gets lonely sometimes, but I have to fend for myself too. Training for future life might fit the description. Living in an empty apartment good for five people isn't the chic, posh, and highly urbanized as most people would think. I've burnt several pans, cut myself for how many times, and scalded my fingers ever so often just to have a knack of preparing food for myself.

Okaa-san told me that I'll be staying at her brother's home, with his young daughter being his only immediate relative. Haha. It's like playing house, I see. I knew spending my hours on a life-simulation RPG will come to use.

Will I get a real home this time? Will I receive a warm welcome or a cold shoulder? Will I fare well in that place that I have no idea how to act in?

Having no close friends before I left was a blessing. No need to keep in touch with people, no annoying phone calls and spam emails, no stress, no frills. Except for one person, maybe; I was tossed away by my closest person before the end of the previous term and I was comforted for a bit by some member of my past school's cooking club. I didn't even remember his name, but I realized that he wasn't even expecting me to be friendly about it. I felt guilty leaving him without prior notice but I'm sure that my reputation spoke for myself. He may have known that if I left, I probably won't remember him. I should drop him a hello if I happen to roam the city but that won't be happening anytime soon. I'll let him consider this as a one-sided, imaginary raincheck. I'm not planning to visit _that_ city anytime soon though.

Now that I thought about it, I believe after the harsh event with senpai, that guy could be considered as my only friend. But the circumstances were toxic, and I was really positive that leaving is the best to end things. One should grab the opportunity if it presents itself. No bait, no fine print.

…who am I fooling?

It's not like I'm ending things. Running away might be a more fitting term. That person abandoned me. Just like the others. They said we're friends and all that crap, but the exchanges simmered down after a while. What's the use of having everyone's numbers and addresses if they can't even find time to send you a simple hi or a kaomoji cat? Investing your feelings but ending up being hurt? I didn't sign up for that. I don't want to leave. I want to be friends with that cooking club friend and senpai, and have more if I can. That way, I can always have someone beside me.

If I don't leave, they won't leave me alone, right?

But I did.

Was it just a huge mistake? I can't tell for now.

I'm beginning another story by casting denouements one after the other to those anthologies that I whipped up in my previous transfers. Everything ended up tragically.

…a dream of contracts, foggy weather and an expensive interior of a limousine concluded abruptly by the lo-fi announcement that we will arrive at the Yasogami terminal in a few minutes. Passengers headed for Inaba city at Yasoinaba station, please go to the other side of the platform.

That was verbatim too.

Transferring trains is a chore. Good thing most of my stuff were sent through the moving company yesterday. I swear I would sweat a lot carrying those despite the chill of spring. A quick phone call was soon followed by a short message alert from my mobile, telling me that Dojima-san and his daughter will be there at the last station by 4pm. Seems like I'm on time. I need to make a good impression after all.

Besides, this train is scheduled to arrive at a specific time anyway.

Noticing that my next train will leave in ten minutes, I went to the washroom and after finishing my stuff, I bought a pack of gummy bears from the nearby vending machine. Comfort food is always great.

The way to Inaba was long, as a good old lady told me when I asked for my destination info. She said it was a nice place; a close-knit community where everyone almost knows everybody, and offers some urban commodities due to the newly-opened Junes a few years back. She recognized that I was a city boy at first glance, and she made a 'Fight-O!' fist pump gesture that I remember seeing in some shoujo manga. Amusing.

She got off the station branching to Okina City, as the announcement said. Hm. A city near a rural area huh? Convenient, I guess?

The view was awe-inspiring; my lungs agreed too when I opened up my window to catch the crisp, clean breeze that you can't get from urban residences. I might like it there.

All those happy thoughts in my brain wilted a little when I recalled what the old lady said.

A close-knit community.

Yeah right. Books say that in this type of living assembly, getting attached is the usual result. But I will end up leaving after a year. Where's the sense in that? I will move again, and it sure follows that I would have to resort to severing ties.

…why am I thinking of my leaving when I haven't even arrived yet? This sweet escape might turn into a nightmare. Damn.

My thoughts will be the death of me one of these days.

I sighed, filling my lungs with fresh air once more as I saw the station from afar.

I'm reluctant to do this, but hey, I've arrived. The show must go on. This ordeal scares me in one way or another. I held on my bag more firmly than I should, wishing the same thing I ask to whatever deity existed after every move to a different locale.

"I wish…I wouldn't be alone."

* * *

Soon, the bittersweet taste of truth will become their joy and woe.

Soon, their weakness will become their strength.

* * *

_**OMAKE (Channel 0+1+1+2+3+5+8+13+21+…)**_

"Yosuke?"

Tap. Tap. Click.

"What is it, aibou?"

Harder tap. Swipe. Tap. Tap.

"…"

Harder tapping continues. Tap. Tap.

"Aibou?"

Sigh. Chew. Tap. Tap.

"…"

Footsteps. Glug. Glug. Door opening.

"Oi! That's my–"

Silence.

"…who's Katsuragi?"

Silence.

"A friend from the city where I lived previously?"

Silence. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"I thought you didn't…never mind."

Orange phone gently placed on the kitchen table. Sound of dishes being washed.

"…"

Beep.  
Grab.  
Tap.  
Tap.  
Swipe.

_From: Katsuragi (090-XXXX-XXXX, katsudonburi (a) xxxxxx . xx . jp)  
Subject: Naru-chan  
Is that your girlfriend, Hanamura?_

Silence.  
Footsteps.  
Door opening.  
Door closing.  
Silence.  
Footsteps.  
Glug. Glu-  
Spit take of newly-glugged water.

Blush.

* * *

And there you have it. It's early evening now and I think I spent a lot of time reading the original story several times just to have myself reacquainted to write using the same style. Freelancing and managing a business can take up a lot of time, and before I knew it, a lot of time had already passed. I apologize to keep you waiting but this is what I can do for now. Please enjoy.

PS. Cookies (and cherry liqueurs to those mature enough to have booze) for anyone who can guess where Katsuragi came from.

Sakuraba Ryuichiro, having a clickable freezing ciggy and a beer.


End file.
